


eagerly i wished the morrow

by reynabeth



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: A LOT OF DIALOGUE, Allison Reynolds more like AlliSIN Reynolds, F/F, Gang Violence Mention //, I tried my best, Let Me Cry In Peace, Rape Mention //, This is terrible, What Is Their Ship Name lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynabeth/pseuds/reynabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There's something inside her, then, in the dim parking lot lit by the flashing neon signs of boozy tattoo parlours, something wild and desperate. She doesn't even care that there's trash blowing around her heels and she can hear someone shouting drunkenly into a phone and there's a smell of piss.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	eagerly i wished the morrow

**Author's Note:**

> this starts of with no plot and then it gets one halfway through and then it loses it again   
> ×  
> i kept trying to abandon this bc it was ooc and there was no plot but it fought me to carry on writing so here it is  
> ×  
> i am uploading so many fics lately wow sorry for bombarding y'all with them  
> ×  
> title from the raven by edgar allen poe

"Allison, would you like to come out for coffee?"

Allison jumps, startled. "What?"

"Would you like to come out for coffee?" Renee traces patterns on the table.

"Yes. Yes, I'd love to."

\---

Allison wants to tear out everything in her closet and burn it over an open fire. She's supposed to be good at this kind of thing - money, clothes, dressing to impress, and going on dates.

Not that it's a date.

Well, maybe it is. Does Renee consider it a date? Is it a date if it's not actually specifically one hundred percent named a date?

Okay. So say - just say - it is a date, what would one wear? She contemplates calling Nicky, then decides that would just worsen the situation.

Come on, Allison. It's only coffee.

She puts on a dress. Okay, that's good. That's a start. It's knitted and soft and much more expensive than it looks. Then she takes it off again.

She puts on a different dress. Renee sewed a patch onto it when it got torn one time. Would she recognise it? It's a nice dress, but it's old. Does if make her stomach look weird?

No, it seems okay. 

Alright. Boots, or sandals? It's fall. Definitely boots. Should she wear a hat? Hats can be cute, right? Oh, wait: hat-hair. Never mind. 

Right. She's going now. Not forgetting to lock the door on her way out.

\---

"Hey, Allison. You look nice. Is that the dress I sewed the patch onto?"

"Uh. Yes. I mean - yes. You look nice too."

"Thank you."

"So, where are we going?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Don't answer my question with a question, Renee."

"Sorry. How does Starbucks sound?"

"Great! Starbucks sounds great."

"You want me to drive us, Allison?"

"Um. Sure."

"Come on then."

\---

Thank God Allison can hide her blush in the coffee cup. This isn't who she is: she doesn't blush, or stutter, or get nervous. It was never like this with -

Well. Never mind.

"So," Allison says, pulling herself together. "How come you decided to dye your hair in the first place?"

It's something she's been wondering for a long time. The colours underneath the white-blonde part of Renee's hair are striking: the first thing you notice about her. The first thing Allison noticed, anyway.

(The second was Renee's stunning good looks. But.)

Renee shrugs. "Want me to do yours?"

"Mine?" Allison sets down her cup, surprised. "I - yes. Yes, I'd like that."

"Okay."

Renee says it like it's very simple. Maybe it is.

 

\---

Renee's hands work themselves through Allison's hair, kneading and massaging. Allison closes her eyes. If she blocks out her surroundings, she can pretend she's on a beach somewhere exotic, getting a scalp massage from a muscled, tanned attendant. She can almost hear the waves and smell the lotions and the sunscreen and the warm sand.

But she's not there, she's somewhere much better. Renee's bathroom, perched on the edge of the tub with, like, the love of her life sat behind her, colouring her hair.

"Is this alright?" Renee murmurs, her voice sending vibrations through Allison's body. Do not react, she tells herself, do not react, do not react - oh. She shivers in pleasure.

Goddamnit, Allison.

"Yeah," she says breathily. "That's fine. That's great, actually."

"Oh, good."

\---

Once Allison's hair has been rinsed and blow-dried and combed, she's allowed to look in the mirror.

"What do you think?" Renee asks.

Allison's mouth drops open. "I think," she says, amazed, "that it's perfect. Like, more than perfect." 

Her hair is its normal sandy blonde on top, but - just like Renee's - the underneath has been dyed several hues. They're stronger than Renee's pastel colours, more vibrant, bright, in-your-face.

It really is perfect.

Allison could kiss Renee right then, right there, right on the spot, but she doesn't. Come on, woman, show some restraint.

Still. Renee is very kissable.

\---

"Renee, why are you shivering?"

Renee looks up at Allison, as if she's almost surprised. "Because I'm cold."

"Take my jacket." It's the custom-made Ralph Lauren sports jacket that cost a ton, but Allison would give Renee her entire wardrobe, if it only meant she was happy.

"I can't take your jacket."

"You can, and you will. Here." Allison shrugs the jacket off and drapes it around Renee's shoulders. 

"Thank you," Renee says, with a gentle smile. Everything about her is so gentle, and it makes Allison want to scream, and slam her into a wall, and kiss her senseless.

 

\---

Allison wakes from a dream about Renee (Renee kissing her, Renee touching her, Renee holding her) feeling more than weird. 

She gets up and goes into the bathroom.

Her hair still shocks her, everytime she sees it. It's unique. She braids it into two tight plaits, and dresses in her gear for early-morning practices. It's only the start of the season, but they still have to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn.

Down at the locker room, Renee is already there, but it's just her. Even Wymack hasn't turned up yet. 

"Oh," Allison says. "Am I early?"

"A little. Come sit beside me." Renee pats the space next to her, and Allison obediently takes the seat.

They sit in silence for a moment. It's a nice silence, as gentle and soft as the vibes Allison gets from Renee. For a moment, Allison wonders what would happen if she laid her head down on Renee's shoulder. They could sit like that for a while, until the other Foxes came down for practice. But what would they say then? 

If she did happen to get any closer to Renee, there'd be a whole new set of bets laid. Allison isn't sure she could deal with that.

 

\---

There's a match the next week, and the team have to travel for two hours on the bus. Allison doesn't mind - she doesn't even mind waking up earlier - as long as it means she gets more time with Renee.

The monsters sit at the very back, and the rest of the upperclassmen at the very front. Allison takes a seat smack-dab in the middle, and - to her surprise - Renee slides in next to her.

"Mind if I join you?" she says.

"Sure," Allison shrugs, moving her bag. 

"Renee, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Are you dating Jean Moreau?" It comes out blunter than Allison had planned. Renee looks surprised.

"Oh! No." She laughs. "No, definitely not."

"Oh." Allison chews over this for a while. "You know the team's betting on you two?"

"Are they really? What did you bet?"

"I bet no," Allison says, not wanting to admit that she only bet no because she couldn't face the thought of the alternative.

"You do have a knack of betting right."

"Um. Thank you?" She sighs. "Renee, I need your help. Seth's mom called." She pauses.

"And?" Renee prompts.

"She wants me to visit them. Something about a memorial."

"Do you want to go?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Allison buries her head in her hands. "It's all so confusing," she says, words muffled by her fingers.

"You should go, if you - if you think you can."

Allison looks up at Renee. "Will you come with me?"

"Me? Oh. Are you sure?"

"Well, you know, if you don't mind..." Allison picks at one perfectly manicured fingernail, feeling a blush prick her cheeks.

Renee hesitates. Then, "Of course I will."

\---

Allison's doing her eyeliner when Dan barges in. She jumps at the sound of the door banging open, and smudges a line of eyeliner down the side of her face. "What the fuck, Dan?"

"Allison, have you seen Renee?" Dan looks windswept and sweaty, like she's been running.

"Not today. Why?"

"Did you see her last night?"

"Mmhmm." Allison focuses on trying to wipe away the black smudge.

"What did she say?"

Allison turns, feeling worry prick the inside of her chest. "Dan, what's going on?"

"Renee's missing."

Allison drops her packet of makeup wipes. "Missing? What do you mean, missing?" 

"She's not in the building, and her car is gone. It looks like she's slept here, for at least some of the night, but she's disappeared now."

Allison swears. Loudly. "Shit, Dan. Shit, Renee. Shit. Shit!" She turns to Dan. "Last night, when I saw Renee, all I said was goodnight, and she said it back. She looked completely normal. It must have been a call or a text or whatever that she got after she went to bed."

Not bothering to pick up the makeup wipes, Allison begins to pace. "It must have been fairly late, when we were all asleep, or else we would have heard her. And something urgent, because she'd never leave without telling one of us. What do the others think?"

"Basically that." Dan chews a nail.

Allison stops dead. "Jean. Jean Moreau."

"Her boyfriend?"

"They weren't dating." 

"What does he have to do with it?"

"I don't know, I just -" Allison bites her lip - "I just have a feeling Renee's disappearance is somehow tied to Jean."

"I'll call Jeremy Knox." Dan vanishes from the doorway, leaving Allison alone.

Allison doesn't bother to change into more appropriate clothes. She leaves her room still wearing what she slept in - a white slip that cost more than it looks - and hurries down the hall.

No one gives her a second glance when she bursts into Neil's room - that's probably an advantage of having a team made up of gay men. "Is there any news?" she asks.

"What, in the last minute since I've seen you?" Dan raises an eyebrow. "No, there's no news. I was just about to call Knox."

"Well, go on, do it then!" Allison feels the pitch of her voice rise. 

Frowning, Dan flips open her phone and dials a number. "Hello? Is this Jeremy Knox?" She pauses, and then says, "Sorry for calling you at this hour. Do you remember Renee Walker?" Another pause. "Have you seen her? She's missing. We have reason to believe she might have gone to yours, to see Jean Moreau." She waits for a moment, and then hangs up, swearing.

"Well?" Nicky says.

"Knox is going to check on Jean, but he doesn't see why or how Renee would've gotten over to them." 

They wait in silence until Dan's phone rings. She answers with a "Well?" Several beats pass. "No. Are you sure? Are you - okay. Okay, thank you." 

Slamming her phone closed, she tosses it down onto the couch. She has difficulty meeting Allison's eyes. "He hasn't seen her," she says, voice no more than a whisper. "He called her, but she never turned up."

Allison feels her knees give way. 

Matt shoots a hand out to steady her. "Easy," he says, propping her back up.

Allison stares at him for a second, and then turns, keeping her head high, and strides out of the room. She drags a hand along the wall as she heads back to her room, trying to keep her balance.

Back in her room, she collapses onto her bed, drawing the covers around her. She's smudging her makeup. She doesn't care.

Sleep would be nice, but there's no way it's going to come. Instead, she lies on her back and stares at the ceiling.

For hours.

And hours.

(Or maybe minutes and minutes, she's not quite sure.)

Anyway, it's a length of time that is far too long for the situation.

She's startled out of her stupor by a knock on her door. "Come in," she calls.

The door swings open, and Renee steps inside. 

"Oh my God." Allison makes to scramble upright. "Renee. Where have you been? Are you okay? Renee?"

Renee looks up. "Oh. Allison Reynolds. I'm in love with you." Her legs give way and she slumps forwards.

Allison freezes up. Like, her heart stops beating, her brain stops functioning, her blood stops moving, the works. She's pretty sure she's medically dead for at least a second or two.

She only comes back to life when Renee's head hits the bed frame with a sickening thunk. Allison swears, struggling to pull Renee upwards, all whilst shouting for Dan and the others.

Nicky's the first to arrive, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair is tousled and his shirt rumpled, like he's just rolled out of bed - probably because he just has. The second he sees Renee, however, he drops his hands, eyes widening. "Shit, Allison. Guess she turned up?"

"You could say that." Allison doesn't even pause for breath between sentences. "Nicky, call Abby. Renee banged her head when she fell."

"Fell?"

"Nicky! Go!"

Nicky backs out of the room, and Allison hears his hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor, as well as the beeping of a phone. 

She checks Renee's head - no blood. Okay, she hasn't been cut, but she's out for the count and probably concussed, which isn't so good. As long as it's nothing more serious.

Renee still doesn't wake in the long minutes it takes Abby to arrive. Finally, Allison hears more footsteps, and animated voices. 

Abby appears in the doorway, with Nicky, Dan, and Wymack in tow. "Abby," Allison says, relieved. "Thank God."

Abby steps towards Renee's prone figure. "What happened?" she says, forehead wrinkling in worry. "Nicky says you said she fell."

"She woke me up," Allison recalls. "Knocked on my door, came in, and then collapsed. She hit her head on the bedframe."

"Okay." Abby leans over Renee, presumably listening to her breathing. Why didn't Allison think to do that? "Her heart rate is steady, and her airways are clear." Carefully, Abby moves Renee into the recovery position, and probes Renee's head. 

"Is she going to be okay?" Allison bursts out.

"I hope so," Abby frowns, pressing an ice-pack to Renee's head. "Head injuries can be pretty severe, but she seems fine. We'll have to check when she wakes up - we might not need to go to the ER."

At that moment, Renee's eyes flutter open, ever so slowly, as if they're being held closed by weights. She coughs, almost choking, and Abby rushes to steady her.

"Jesus Christ, Renee," Allison says.

"Jesus Christ is right, indeed," Wymack says, speaking for the first time since he came in. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Nicky, go fill up a glass of water for Renee, would you?" Abby says, without turning around. "And David - would you please shut up for just one minute?"

"It's only a head injury," Renee croaks. "We've all had worse."

"Renee, you just vanished," Allison says, her patience wearing thin. "Where the fuck were you?"

Nicky returns with the water, and Renee takes it gratefully. When she speaks again, her voice is less hoarse. "I... I don't remember."

"What, nothing at all?"

"I - I woke up," Renee says hesitantly. "There was - I - I'm sorry, Allison. It's just blank."

"I - it's okay." 

"Selective amnesia," Abby says. "Could be caused by the head injury, or could be brought on by extreme emotional trauma or stress."

"Shit." Allison sits down heavily. "Renee, what happened to you?"

"Her memory could come back," Abby adds, hopefully. She holds up a hand in front of Renee's face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Four. Why?"

"Is your vision blurry? Do you feel sick, at all?"

"No, I..." Renee frowns. "I feel fine, just a little stiff. And - ow." She touches her head, and winces.

"In that case, do you think you could stand up?"

"Yes. Yes, I think so." With Abby's help, Renee swings her legs over the side of the bed and shakily stands.

For the first time since she came in, Allison notices what Renee's wearing. Her jeans are muddy and torn, and her shirt is in tatters. When she stands upright, the material gapes open at her side, revealing a patchwork of bruises and scrapes.

It's a good thing Allison doesn't cry, because if she did, she'd be in tears by now.

"Holy shit," says Nicky, sucking a breath of air in through his teeth. "Renee, I..."

"I just don't remember," Renee says, pulling the fabric of her shirt away from her body and releasing it again. "I just - I don't remember."

Afterwards, Allison thinks about what Renee said. Allison Reynolds. I’m in love with you. Okay, so Renee didn't mean it - she was just sick, or something. But still.

Still. It's something to think about, that's for sure.

 

\---

It's been three weeks, and more often than not, Allison wakes with Renee in her bed.

Not, sadly, in the way Allison would like. 

The first time she opened her eyes to a spray of pale hair and a tangle of limbs, she had thought she was dreaming. And then it turned out she wasn't.

Renee woke up, and apologised - she'd had nightmares, she thought, maybe sleepwalked - but Allison didn't care.

And here they are, twenty minutes late for morning practice, with Renee's arm slung over Allison's back, and her hair tickling Allison's face, and Allison wishes the ground would swallow her up and send her to hell to be free of this all-encompassing desire, to hold Renee and kiss her and weave fingers through her hair and -

Renee's eyes shoot open and she sits bolt upright, causing Allison to shift away to the edge of the bed.

Renee is breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Are you alright?" Allison asks, voice stiff from sleep. She places a hand on Renee's shoulder.

Pressing the palms of her hands into her forehead, Renee nods. "It's just the nightmares. Again."

"I'm - I - is it helping you get your memory back?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Renee sounds shifty, guilty - like there's something she's hiding. She turns, sees the clock, and starts. "Oh! We're late for practice."

"Fuck practice," Allison says, yawning, but she gets up anyway.

She changes into her gear in front of Renee - okay, she turns her back, to save at least a shred of her privacy - and when she turns around again, she's sure Renee looks a little pink around the ears.

 

\---

Allison's driving to the store when she sees Renee, crumpled and bedraggled, trailing along the side of the road. Slamming her hand on the horn, Allison screeches her car through several lanes of traffic and pulls over beside Renee.

Gratefully, without Allison even having to speak, Renee opens the door and gets in.

"What are you doing? Why didn't you take the car?" Allison demands.

Renee just shrugs. "I wanted to walk." 

"Okay, Renee, seriously. What's happening to you?"

Renee doesn't say anything, staring straight ahead at the blurred colours outside.

Allison loses her patience. "Renee, is this about the night you disappeared?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"I got a call from Jean Moreau. He wanted help. Didn't say what. I parked the car. Got out. Turns out there was some gang waiting where I parked. They attacked me. I didn't have anything to defend myself with. When I got free, I drove home."

"Renee, did they...? Did the gang -"

Renee laughs mirthlessly. "No. They didn't get that far."

Allison exhales a huge breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Thank God." 

They drive in silence for a few moments, then Renee says, with false brightness: "So, have you decided whether you are going to go to Seth's memorial service?"

"I missed it," Allison says. "It was last week."

"Allison." Renee lifts her gaze from her lap. "You should have said something. I would have gone with you."

"Yeah, well," Allison says, shrugging. "Not my scene, anyway."

"Oh, come on," Renee laughs. "Everything's your scene if it involves alcohol."

It feels good to laugh, so Allison laughs, so hard she nearly crashes the car. "You might be right there," she admits, turning into the store parking lot.

Allison gets out first, and then goes around to the passenger door to open it for Renee. There's something inside her, then, in the dim parking lot lit by the flashing neon signs of boozy tattoo parlours, something wild and desperate. She doesn't even care that there's trash blowing around her heels and she can hear someone shouting drunkenly into a phone and there's a smell of piss.

As soon as Renee steps out of the car, whatever it is inside of Allison snaps. She takes Renee by the shoulders and leans in and oh, oh, holy shit holy shit, their lips are touching, oh dear God, it's actually happening, she's kissing Renee Walker, she's kissing Renee Walker, and Renee Walker is kissing her back.

Allison has never kissed a girl before. Plenty of guys, sure, though no one since Seth. No one serious, anyway. Girls are different to kiss, she thinks. They're softer, and more responsive, and they taste nicer. Renee tastes sugar-sweet, and she's smaller, smaller than Allison, small enough for Allison to wrap her arms around her and almost lift her up.

Renee smells good, too, and Allison presses her lips harder against Renee's, and winds her fingers in Renee's hair, and kisses her and kisses her and kisses her.

They stand there for an eternity, wound around each other like vines, woven together on a tree. Allison would be perfectly happy to pull Renee into the back of the car and have sex, but she thinks Renee might not be into that yet, so she refrains. Just about.

They break apart, Allison severing the string of saliva between them. Gross. 

"Holy shit," Allison breathes. "I never thought I'd actually do that." She's pretty sure she's blushing as red as the soles of her shoes, and probably not looking her best. At this moment, though, she couldn't care less, because she just kissed Renee Walker.

"I'd like to do it again, some time," Renee, says, cocking an eyebrow, and all the heat in Allison's body rushes to a certain part of her anatomy.

"How about now?" she suggests, but Renee just laughs.

"You came to the store for a reason; let's go in."

Allison takes Renee's hand as they walk into the store, and she doesn't let go. 

It takes Allison approximately four and a half minutes to buy a box of tampons and some Vaseline, and then she's back out in the parking lot. She'd like to jump on top of her car and shout to the world that she just kissed Renee, but, you know. It might dent her car.

\---

Allison would like to say they drive back and go to Allison's room and do filthy things all night, but sadly that's not the case.

They part outside Fox Tower. It's awkward: a moment of silence, then Renee turns to go, and Allison cries out "wait!" like she's in some cheesy romance movie. 

So Renee turns back, and they walk towards each other, and then Allison kisses Renee again. It's much quicker, this time, and oh-so-soft and sweet.

"Goodnight," Renee murmurs.

"Goodnight," Allison repeats reluctantly.

Neither of them want to leave, but both of them have to go. Allison turns away first, her heels clacking on the concrete, and something rich and smooth beating in her chest.

\---

There's more kisses after that, more and more. The only thing that keeps Allison going through the long wintery days is the thought of Renee's lips and skin and hair.

After dark, when Allison's teammates have finished doing whatever they do late at night, when Allison's light is the only one on, when curtains draw closed and quiet falls, Renee knocks on Allison's door.

And then they make music in the silence.

\---

Allison is a firm believer that summer is the best season - but she supposes spring is okay, too, though mainly because of spring break.

The first day of spring dawns early, with no more than a happy sigh. Colours paint the sky, as soft and pale as Renee's hair. The birds - well, any birds that are brave enough to nest near Fox Tower - sing as if they know it's springtime now.

Allison only wakes up when Renee presses a kiss to her lips. There's nothing like her girlfriend in the morning to get Allison going.

Girlfriend. Wow.

Pushing back the covers, Renee stands up - despite Allison's protests - and goes to the window. She pulls back the curtains and peers out. 

"What's it like today?" Allison asks.

Renee considers for a moment, and then says, "First day of spring."

"It's not March until next week," Allison points out

"No, it's definitely the start of spring. Look at the colours! You can practically hear the sky sighing with relief."

Allison gets up and moves to the window too, wrapping her arms around Renee from behind. Renee leans back, relaxing into her.

"You know," Renee says, "my foster mother always says that spring is a fresh start. For the year, to make up for the winter, and for us."

"A fresh start," Allison says thoughtfully. Then, "Come back to bed."

"Okay," Renee says, smiling.

\---

Once she's positioned in bed, wrapped around Renee, Allison closes her eyes.

She wonders what will happen in her fresh start. Honestly, she doesn't really care: as long as she's with Renee, she's ready to accept the future with open arms.

Allison lays her head on Renee's chest and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> can i have a few kudos and maybe some comments as a 'you tried' prize thanks


End file.
